


Everything Feels Broken When You're Not Next To Me

by LtTrailer18



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character Death In Dream, Day Two: Biggest Fear, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Sheith Month 2019, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-05-31 15:25:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19428763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtTrailer18/pseuds/LtTrailer18
Summary: Shiro finds a way to cope with the nightmares that plague him.





	Everything Feels Broken When You're Not Next To Me

**Author's Note:**

> I tagged this as Major Character Death, but it only happens in dreams and no one really dies, just thought it would be safer to tag it this way.

Footsteps echoed through long metal corridor as the guards guided the prisoners. The prison block itself was cold and damp, but the air on the rest of the ship was hot and dry. Shiro had already begun to sweat, possibly from the heat of the ship, but his nerves were just as likely the cause. The guards were taking him and the other prisoners to the arena where they would be forced to fight for their lives. Shiro had been lucky so far and managed to best his opponent every time. He was sure his luck would run out soon, even with the cybernetic arm he’d been given. He looked around at the others walking beside him and solemnly wondered which of them would be making the journey back to the cells today. 

When they arrived at the entrance to the arena Shiro faced the doors with resignation. He was stunned when a guard prodded him sharply in the ribs and herded him to a different set of doors. Today, it seemed, Shiro and his fellows weren’t here to fight, but to watch. He was somewhat relieved. Today would not be the day his luck ran out and he would live to see another. 

The guards shoved them all into what appeared to be a viewing box for the prisoners who would not be partaking in the fights. Shiro had never been on this side of the gladiatorial matches. He’d always been a competitor. He was uncertain if being sidelined was a good thing but, for now, he’d gladly take the respite. 

The crowd erupted in cheers as the doors opened and the first competitor entered. Myzax, the announcer called him. He was a hulking brute of a creature. He wore Galra armor, a pauldron with three sharp blades erupting from it covered one shoulder. He was wielding some type of club with a glowing orb on the end. His skin was gray and his teeth were jagged. Shiro pitied the poor soul who would be forced to battle him. He hated the idea of watching this monster fight another prisoner, but he knew he should. Watching the combat could give Shiro insight on how he fights and increase his chances of success if he were to face him in the future. He resigned himself to observing. 

The doors to the arena opened once more, signalling the entrance of Myzax’s opponent. The crowd began to boo and jeer at the newcomer. Shiro reluctantly looked at the fighter and his body went cold. It felt as though he had been punched in the stomach and all the air had left his lungs. On shaking legs he pushed through the throng of prisoners around him, making his way to the front of the viewing box. “No, no, please, no,” spilled from his lips repeatedly. He made it to the front of the room and grasped the bars sealing them in tightly. The prisoner who now stood to face Myzax was a lithe young man with inky black hair and impossibly purple eyes. He was too thin and too pale. His cheeks were sunken and dark circles sat deep beneath his eyes. Shiro’s heart ached at the sight of him. In spite of his poor condition, there was still a fire burning in his eyes, a fierceness that couldn’t be snuffed out in spite of whatever hell their captors had put him through. Shiro felt a strange sense of pride at his resilience, but also overwhelming despair at the situation.  
“Keith,” he gasped out. “God, no.” His eyes burned with the threat of tears but Shiro fought them back. He couldn’t break down right now. If Keith looked over and saw him standing there with tears on his face it could shake him, distract him from the battle. He needed every advantage to stand a chance. 

_He shouldn’t be here,_ Shiro thought. _How did they get him?_

Shiro couldn’t take his eyes off the young man. His best friend. His number one supporter. The one who encouraged him to reach for the stars when most everyone else wanted to ground him. The man he secretly loved. Keith was Shiro’s reason to fight, his reason to live. He’d promised Keith he’d come back. He had planned to do anything he had to in order to keep that promise. 

But now, Keith was here. A prisoner of the Galra Empire being forced to fight for their entertainment and there was nothing Shiro could do to stop it. He felt ill and he nearly collapsed from the unbearable pain he felt in his heart. He couldn’t lose Keith. 

A bell rang and signaled the beginning of the fight. Shiro held his breath as the battle began, praying that Keith would survive this. Myzax swung his club and launched the orb at Keith. The young man dodged it deftly. He rolled out of the way and was on his feet quickly, charging at the brute. The Galra had at least armed him with a sword, although they’d neglected to give him any sort of armor. He swung the weapon hard and managed to land a solid blow to Myzax’s side, but the Galra was well protected by his armor. He brought his arm down and slammed it against Keith’s torso, causing him to cry out as he was sent tumbling across the arena floor. Shiro’s grip on the bars tightened. Keith had somehow managed to keep his grip on his blade and quickly rose to a fighting stance, only to drop back to the ground to dodge Myzax’s orb as it came soaring at him. 

Every second the two battled was agony to watch and Shiro could feel himself unraveling. Keith landed a number of good, solid blows but he just couldn’t find a weak spot in the armor protecting his opponent. Myzax had managed to get a few more blows on Keith’s body, each one eliciting a pained sound from Keith that felt like a knife in Shiro’s chest, but he had yet to strike him with that orb. It felt like an eternity had passed and Shiro was nearing his breaking point when the unthinkable happened. 

As Keith approached yet again and attempted to penetrate another section of armor Myzax caught his arm. He tightened his grip until Keith was grimacing from the pain. Then, with a sharp, sudden jerk of his hand, a gut-wrenching crack hit the air, followed by an agonized scream and the clatter of Keith’s blade hitting the ground. Bile burned the back of Shiro’s throat. Myzax lifted Keith into the air by his broken arm and held him there as he smirked triumphantly. Keith gasped through the pain. The orb whizzed by the bars Shiro was gripping like a lifeline and whipped around toward the pair in the arena. 

“No,” Shiro pleaded.

The orb remained on course and blasted its way straight through Keith, leaving a gaping hole in his chest that oozed blood and sinew. Choking sounds escaped from Keith as the crowd roared for Myzax’s victory. The Galran battler released his grip on the battered man and his body fell to the ground. His head lolled to the side and sightless eyes landed on Shiro. A primal roar filled with despair tore its way out of Shiro’s throat as tears spilled down his cheeks. 

Shiro bolted upright in his bed. His face was wet with tears and his throat ached from screaming. The image of Keith dying was seared into his mind and a fire raced up his throat. He launched himself out of bed and barely made it to the garbage can kept by the small desk on the other side of the room. He gripped the bin tightly as he emptied his stomach into it and sobbed, his chest heaving. He just couldn’t seem to get any air. 

_He’s fine,_ ” Shiro thought. _Keith is fine. He wasn’t captured. He’s here on the Castle Ship. Keith is safe._

Shiro continued to force those thoughts to run through his head, but it didn’t do much to soothe him. He needed to see Keith. That was the only thing that would dispel his uncertainty. He stood on trembling legs and stumbled to the door. It hissed open and he stepped out into the dimly lit hall. Keith’s room was right beside his but the walk still seemed to take much too long. He knocked on the door and waited for a response. When none came, his panic began to build again. 

_Maybe it wasn’t just a dream,_ his brain unhelpfully supplied. _Maybe Keith’s really--_ He shook his head roughly, refusing to finish the thought. He knocked harder. 

“Keith?” he called. When there was still no answer he began to hyperventilate. “Keith, please,” he gasped out, “I know it’s late but please answer.” He was pounding on the door now but still there was no answer. His eyes found the lock pad and he remembered Keith had given him the code. “Keith,” he tried again, “I’m sorry, but I’m coming in.” He punched the code into the pad with trembling fingers. The door slid open and Shiro rushed inside only to be met with an empty room. He collapsed to his knees as he took in his surroundings: the made bed, Keith’s jacket hanging on the hook attached to the bedpost, the datapad sitting on the desk. 

“No,” Shiro whispered. “No, he’s not dead. He can’t be.” He forced himself to take several deep breaths and got back on his feet. Keith was here; he had to be. Shiro just needed to find him. He left Keith’s room and headed for the observation deck. Keith would go there sometimes to clear his head and watch the stars. Shiro set a quick pace and jogged to the deck. He nearly threw up when he arrived to find it empty. 

_He’s here. Keep looking._

He set off again, this time headed for the training room. As he approached he could hear sounds coming from within. He broke into a run and rushed to the doorway. Immense relief washed over Shiro when he spotted the slender man squaring off against a sentinel inside. He’d been there for quite some time, it seemed, if the wet patch on his lower back was any indication. Beads of sweat dripped down his flushed face. Shiro had to push back against images of Keith fighting from his nightmare, but managed to keep himself rooted in the present. 

Keith spotted Shiro out of the corner of his eye and startled. “Shi-” he started, but the rest was lost as the bot landed a blow to his face, knocking him to the ground. 

Shiro inhaled sharply and rushed into the room. “End training sequence!” he bellowed, shutting the program down immediately. He flung himself to his knees at Keith’s side and fussed over him. Keith batted his hands away as he rubbed at his jaw.

“Shiro, relax, I’m fi--” he cut himself off as he finally took in Shiro’s appearance: his swollen red eyes, flushed cheeks, and the tear tracks he hadn’t bothered to wipe from his face. “Shiro,” he breathed. “What happened? What’s wrong?” He positioned himself on his knees in front of Shiro and placed his hands on both of his shoulders. The concern and genuine care lacing Keith’s voice was more than Shiro could bear and he broke drown. He grabbed Keith and pulled him close, burying his face in the crook of his neck. He sobbed on Keith’s shoulder, choking out apologies over and over again. Keith wrapped his arms around Shiro and rubbed soothing circles into his back. He answered each one of Shiro’s apologies with “It’s ok. Everything is going to be ok.”

Shiro wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but eventually the tears stopped and he was able to release the vice grip he had on Keith. He took a deep breath and pulled back. Keith let him go.

“Shit. I’m so sorry, Keith.”

“What’s going on, Shiro?’ The tender, soft look Keith was giving him made his heart skip. 

“I had a nightmare,” he admitted. “I have them all the time, really, but this one was exceptionally bad.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Keith asked. Shiro shook his head sharply. “Ok, that’s fine. Anything I can do to help?”

“Don’t leave me,” Shiro answered without thinking. A confused look flashed across Keith;s face and Shiro quickly continued. “I mean… I don’t… I want…” he muttered as he fought to find the right words, the ones that wouldn’t completely expose him. “I just don’t want to be alone tonight,” he finally got out with a sigh. His gaze fell to the floor. 

“Ok,” Keith responded. “I’ll stay with you.” He reached out and gently tilted Shiro’s face towards him. He thumbed away the tear tracks staining his cheeks, a sad smile on his lips. “I really think you should try to get some sleep, though,” he said, eyeing the bags under Shiro’s eyes. “I won’t leave. I promise.” Shiro bit his lip, uncertain, but he nodded slowly. Keith stood and then helped Shiro to his feet. As they left the room together Keith placed his hand on the small of Shiro’s back and guided him out. 

“What were you doing up, anyway?” Shiro asked as they made their way back to the bedrooms. He felt Keith shrug. 

“I just couldn’t sleep. I was feeling restless, decided to burn off some energy.” 

Shiro hummed in acknowledgement. They stopped outside Shiro’s door and as he reached for the pad to open it, he suddenly remembered the garbage can filled with vomit. 

“Uh,” he said nervously, quickly retracting his hand, “maybe your room would be better. If that’s ok.”

Keith smiled reassuringly. “Of course.” They continued down the hall and Keith opened his door, leading Shiro inside and over to the bed. He sat down heavily. “So, what’s the plan here?” Keith asked hesitantly. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you look exhausted, Shiro.” Keith sat down beside him and gently rubbed his shoulder. “I’d really like for you to try to get some sleep. Why don’t you take the bed. I’ll get out some extra blankets and sleep on the floor.”

Shiro shook his head fervently. “You’re not sleeping on the floor in your own room,” he said sternly. “Either I sleep on the floor or, if you’re ok with it, we could share the bed.”

Keith considered for a moment then said, “Sharing works.” A light blush had crept up his face. “Would it be ok if I just hopped in the shower really quick?” he asked a bit tentatively. “I’m pretty sweaty from the training sim and just want to rinse off. I know you don’t want to be alone, so if it’s a problem I don’t have to.”

Shiro’s heart began racing at the thought of Keith leaving. He knew that Keith didn’t like to go to bed sweaty and sticky and no matter how late it was, or how tired he was, he’d always rinse off if he could, even after hard fought battles. He was already asking so much of Keith, he could hardly deny him this. He swallowed hard. 

“It’s fine,” he said. 

“Are you sure?” Shiro nodded and Keith said, “Ok, I’ll make it quick.” He gave Shiro’s shoulder a quick squeeze, then stood and dug some clothes from the bureau. As he headed towards his attached bathroom Shiro felt panic building and called out to him. Keith stopped and turned to face Shiro.

“Could you,” he croaked, “would it be alright if you left the door open so I can still hear you?” His face flushed with embarrassment. He felt so pathetic and weak, but Keith was kind and perfect and so willing to give Shiro anything he needed, so he agreed to it easily. He walked back over to Shiro and crouched down to get in his eye line. 

“Is there anything else you need?” Shiro shook his head. “Ok,” Keith responded. “I’ll be as quick as I can. If you need me, just yell.” He gently ran his fingers through Shiro’s forelock, still smiling that gentle, kind smile. He straightened and Shiro watched him as he walked away. 

Shiro’s panic started to grow once Keith disappeared through the doorway. He listened carefully to the creak of the faucet as the shower turned on and the splash of the water as it hit the floor while reminding himself that Keith was in there and he was alive and well but the fear continued to gnaw at him. After just a minute or two he was getting up and crossing the room. He stopped outside the bathroom entrance and turned around, pressing his back against the wall next to the doorway. He tried to speak but found the words caught in his throat. He cleared it and tried again, managing to rasp Keith’s name. 

Keith responded immediately. “I’m coming.” 

“No!” Shiro said urgently. “No, Keith, please finish. I just…” He paused, not sure what he wanted to say. 

_This is so stupid. You’re being so stupid._.

He exhaled sharply. “Could you just talk?” he finally said. “About anything? It doesn’t matter what.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” Keith replied uncertainly. “Just give me a second to think here.” Keith took a few moments to come up with something to talk about, reassuring Shiro that he was thinking about it as he did, and eventually launched into a story about his dad. He told Shiro about how on Saturday mornings his dad would get up and make them both breakfast. After breakfast, he’d go take a shower while Keith sat on the couch and watched cartoons. One Saturday, his regularly scheduled programming was preempted for some sporting event that a seven-year-old Keith could not have cared less about, so he flipped through the other stations until he found one that had cartoons on. It was some show he’d never seen before but he didn’t really have any other options, so he watched it. When his dad came out of the shower he asked Keith if he wanted to go grocery shopping with him. Keith declined and his dad started going over the rules he’d set for staying home alone and as they discussed it the show’s theme song began to play. His dad’s head whipped around and he became distracted, as apparently he used to watch that show when he was a kid. He ended up sitting down on the couch beside Keith instead of going grocery shopping. 

“That kind of became our new Saturday routine,” Keith said, suddenly much closer. Shiro had been focused on the story, on Keith’s voice, and hadn’t heard the water turn off, or Keith toweling off and getting dressed. He opened his eyes and looked down at Keith, smiling. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

Keith returned his smile. “Anytime. Come on, let’s get some sleep.” Keith placed his hand on Shiro’s elbow and guided him back to the bed. After a few paces, Shiro caught the scent of the soap from Keith’s shower and froze in place, realizing the state he must be in. He received a questioning look from Keith.

“Maybe I should shower, too?” 

“Do you want to?”

“I’m sweaty. I must smell.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It’ll get all over your blankets.”

“Shiro.” Keith stepped in front of him and placed both hands on his shoulders. He waited until Shiro was looking at him before he asked again. “Do you want to shower?” 

He didn’t. He was tired and he really couldn’t bear to have Keith out of his sight. He shook his head. 

“Then don’t,” Keith said. He slipped his arm behind Shiro and gently steered him towards the bed. 

“But--” Shiro began to argue.

“It’s fine, Shiro. Let’s just go to sleep.” 

Keith climbed into his bed and scooted back against the wall, then motioned for Shiro to join him. He hesitantly laid down on his back as close to the edge of the bed as he could, trying to give Keith as much space as possible. Even so, there was only an inch or two left between them. Shiro’s heart rate increased. 

“Are you comfortable?” Keith asked. “Do you have enough room?”

“Yeah, it’s perfect. Thanks, Keith.”

“Anytime.” Keith answered. “Good night, Shiro. Wake me if you need anything.”

Good night, Keith.” Shiro laid flat on his back and listened to Keith’s breathing. He stole occasional glances at the younger man to reassure himself he was still there. Once he was certain he was asleep he turned his head to really look at him. He was gorgeous, always, but especially now. His dark hair tumbled along his neck and pooled under his head. His lips were slightly parted. He looked so peaceful and soft there. Shiro yearned to touch him, to pull him close and hold him, but he stopped himself. It wouldn’t be right. Keith didn’t see him like that. He didn’t want to be held by him. They were just friends and Shiro wouldn’t cross that line. He watched Keith as he shifted in his sleep and let out a small gasp when his head rolled into Shiro’s shoulder. Even that small amount of contact was immensely reassuring and he felt a sense of peace start to overpower the fear he’d been holding onto. He thought he might actually be able to fall back asleep, and he dared to close his eyes. Soon enough, he was drifting off. 

The next morning, the first thing Shiro saw when he woke was Keith’s sleeping face. He was even closer than he had been when Shiro had fallen asleep. Keith’s head was resting fully on Shiro’s shoulder. His body was pressed into Shiro’s side and his arm was draped across his stomach. Shiro couldn't help the wide smile that spread across his face. He knew it didn’t mean anything. His love for Keith was completely one-sided and just because Keith turned out to be a cuddly sleeper, he shouldn’t expect anything more to come from it. Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn't enjoy the closeness while it lasted. 

Only a few minutes passed before Keith began to stir, much to Shiro’s disappointment. He watched as Keith’s eyes fluttered open and then went wide as he realized his position. Ever so slowly he turned his head up to look at Shiro.

“Morning,” Shiro said when their eyes met. Keith’s face turned as red as his favorite jacket and he jerked upright, throwing his back against the wall. 

“I’m so sorry,” he spat. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s ok, Keith,” Shiro answered, trying not to laugh. Keith simply stared at Shiro’s shoulder, where his head had been only moments earlier. “Honestly, I think having you so close helped. I slept much better than I thought I would.”

Keith looked at Shiro’s face then, one eyebrow raised. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Shiro answered. I usually can’t get back to sleep after a nightmare, or if I can it’s fitful. But I stayed asleep the rest of the night.

Keith looked at Shiro warily, like he didn’t quite believe him. “You were awake, though.” 

“I woke up a couple minutes before you. That’s it.” Shiro smiled reassuringly and Keith seemed to relax a little, though he still seemed embarrassed. It seemed rather silly to Shiro. Nothing could compare to his own behavior the night before. He sighed. “Keith, I’m really sorry for last night.” Keith’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t mean to burden--”

“Stop,” Keith snapped. “You’re not a burden. You’ll never be a burden. I’ll always be here, Shiro, no matter what.” Keith’s eyes burned with a fierceness and determination that made Shiro’s heart swell. He swallowed down an apology that he knew Keith didn’t want to hear and resisted the urge to pull Keith into a tight embrace. “If you need anything, ever, come get me. I don’t care what time it is.”

Shiro closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, Keith was still staring at him with his intense gaze. “Ok,” he reluctantly agreed. He hoped he wouldn’t have to take Keith up on his offer, but his scarred mind had other plans for him. 

The very next night Shiro woke up screaming. The theme of his dream was the same; Keith was fighting in the arena while Shiro watched from the sidelines. Tonight, however, the combatant tore open Keith’s jugular and he bled out on the ground while the crowd cheered. He again emptied his stomach into the bin by the desk, telling himself repeatedly that Keith was safe and alive. But just as the night before, he couldn’t get himself to believe it. As soon as he was able, he stood and ran to Keith’s room. He pounded on the door frantically, calling for Keith, but didn’t get a response. Not much time had passed and he tried to reason with himself that Keith was sleeping and Shiro should just go, but he couldn’t get the violent images of Keith being killed in the arena to go away. He knocked harder, yelled louder, and was almost at his breaking point when the door finally opened and revealed a very sleepy Keith. 

“Shiro?” he mumbled as he rubbed at his eyes, his voice thick with sleep. Shiro took a shuddering breath and then enveloped Keith into his arms. Keith returned his embrace and began whispering assurances into Shiro’s chest. Shiro buried his face into Keith’s hair and sobbed. Keith stepped back into his room, pulling Shiro with him, allowing the door to close and lock. He held the other man tightly, a stream of platitudes falling from his lips. It took some time, but eventually Shiro’s crying subsided.

“Dammit,” he murmured, pulling away from Keith. He covered his face with both of his hands. “I can’t believe I’m doing this to you again. I’m so sorry, Keith.”

“It’s alright, Shiro.” Keith reached out and gently squeezed his shoulder. “You don’t have to apologize.” He ran his other hand through Shiro’s hair and pulled him back into a tight hug. Shiro kept his hands on his face. “Come on, let’s lay down.” Keith steered Shiro over to the bed and they crawled in together. They both took up the positions they had started in the night before. Shiro worked on calming his hammering heart and settling his breaths. Keith reached over brushed his fingers through Shiro’s hair. He leaned into the touch. “What can I do to help?” Keith asked.

“This,” Shiro answered. “This is perfect.” It wasn’t long before Shiro was drifting off. 

When Shiro woke the next morning Keith was pressed up against him again, his head on his shoulder and arm over is stomach. Shiro smiled at him, and fought the urge to lean down and kiss the top of his head. He got to enjoy it a bit longer this time, and when Keith woke up he didn’t recoil as he had before, though he did pull away and appeared embarrassed. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, blush creeping up his cheeks. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” Shiro said. Keith looked at Shiro through his bangs as he laid in the bed, and Shiro nearly reached over and brushed the hair out of the way. “Thank you, Keith.”

“Anytime.”

Shiro disentangled himself from the blankets and prepared to leave Keith’s room. As he reached the door, Keith called out to him.

“Next time, if there is a next time, you don’t have to stand out in the hall and wait for me to wake up. You have my code. Just come in.”

He stared at Keith for a moment before a soft, thankful smile spread across his face. “Thanks, Keith. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Unfortunately, “next time” turned out to be the following night. Shiro was plagued by visions of Keith’s skull being crushed beneath the armoured foot of a fighter in the arena. When he was finished throwing up, he ran to Keith’s room. In his panic, he began knocking on the door. He quickly remembered what Keith had told him the night before, however, and he entered the code into the pad by the door. He rushed into the room and was relieved to find Keith sleeping peacefully in his bed, tucked tightly against the wall. Shiro stumbled over to the bed and collapsed to his knees. He leaned against the bed and reached out for Keith’s hand. He wanted to avoid waking him if he could, so he stayed on the floor, hunched over the side of the bed and held onto Keith. He sobbed into the sheets for a time and when he had calmed down enough he watched the rise and fall of Keith’s chest. His steady breathing lulled Shiro back to sleep.

“Shiro! What the hell?” Keith’s sudden shout startled Shiro awake.

“Huh? What’s wrong? Are you ok?” Shiro asked, alarmed. It took a moment for him to get his bearings and figure out where he was. He looked up at Keith and found him glaring. “Oh, you’re mad.” Keith nodded, a sardonic smile on his face. “Sorry,”he said. “I-- I shouldn’t have come in.” He started to get up but Keith grabbed him. 

“I don’t care that you came in! I care that you are on the fucking floor!”

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Shiro muttered. Keith closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, I’ll go.” He started to pull away but Keith tightened his grip. 

“Get. In. The Bed.” 

Shiro swallowed hard. He hesitated, but Keith tugged on his wrist and he complied. He got into the bed and laid tensely on the edge and held his breath while he waited for Keith to say something. 

“Hey,” Keith said finally. 

Shiro turned his face to him. “Wake me up next time. I can’t help if I’m unconscious.”

“But you did,” Shiro argued, earning another glare from Keith. “I’m serious,” Shiro turned onto his side and took Keith’s hand. “I held your hand and listened to you breathe and I fell back asleep.”

There was still a fire in Keith’s eyes, an anger bubbling beneath the surface. Shiro didn’t fully understand why Keith was so angry with him, but he didn’t dare say that, knowing it would only stoke the fire. It wasn’t worth arguing. “I’ll wake you next time,” he promised. He gave Keith’s hand a light squeeze and then let go, but Keith kept his hold. Shiro took the opportunity and wrapped his fingers back around Keith’s as he turned and laid on his back. Before he drifted off to sleep, he decided to give Keith one more thing. 

“Hey, Keith?” he said softly.

“Yeah?”

“My nightmares,” Shiro said. “Before, they were fractured memories. I was reliving my time in the arena. But a few days ago they warped into something different, something worse.” His voice cracked as he spoke and he felt tears beginning to form again. 

“You don’t have to talk about it, Shiro.”

“I know,” he rasped. “But I want to tell you at least this much. I’m dreaming of my biggest fear, and in the nightmare, I am powerless to stop it from happening. All I can do is watch. Night after night I see the worst thing that could happen occur in a new, horrible way.” He sniffed, and a tear spilled out of his eye. Keith surged towards him. He wiped away the tear and placed a steady hand on Shiro’s chest.

“It’s ok, Shiro. You’re ok. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Shiro didn’t have the strength or courage to tell him that was exactly what he was afraid of; Keith would get captured, hurt, or killed trying to protect him. Instead, he looked at Keith with tear filled eyes and told him a different truth. “I know.” He freed his arm from between them and wrapped it around Keith, who laid his head down on Shiro’s shoulder. There were other words there, dancing on the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill out and betray his most closely guarded secret. But he held them back, and held Keith close as they drifted off to sleep.

_I love you._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Chapter Two will posted for Sheith Month Day 26: Confession/Listen.


End file.
